


The Weekend

by myridiculous



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-18 09:13:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10613829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myridiculous/pseuds/myridiculous
Summary: Abby receives an unexpected email from Raven seven years after Raven left her heartbroken without any explanation.





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

Dropping a Line

 

 January 16, 2017

Raven Reyes<R.Reyes@ReyesTechnical.com>

Hey,

I hope this is the Abby Griffin I’m looking for. If not, well please ignore this weirdo email. I know it’s been a while, but I was thinking about you the other morning. I was drinking coffee and could not stop smiling about how much better my cup was than the crap they serve at Starbucks. Then I remembered it was you who had turned me onto using a French press. You turned me onto a lot of things that summer.

Anyway, not to get too serious here, but I was curious to what you’ve been up to. Also, did you ever get that desk lamp fixed?

-Raven

* * *

 

  
Abby stares at the computer screen her fingers itching to spill all the pent-up emotions swirling inside her. _How dare she_ Abby fumes. _She has no right_ _after all this time to contact me_. _And that casual tone like nothing’s happened. Like she didn't disappear._

 

* * *

Re: Dropping a Line

 January 16, 2017  


FUCK. YOU.

* * *

 

  
Abby feels her eyes tighten up and starts to rub her temples. She lets out a sigh. The furious clacking of the backspace button drums against finger.

 

 _It’s been seven years._ _You have gotten stronger since then._ _Show her that and not your vulnerability._ _Jesus, aren’t you supposed to be the older one here anyway?_

 

* * *

Re: Dropping a Line

 

January 16, 2017

  
Hello Raven,

It is a pleasant surprise to hear from you. While I am glad that you enjoy your coffee press, I cannot say I still use one. I’ve been drinking tea instead. The anti-oxidants are great for your health and tea is less acidic than coffee. Before you start a war over “leaf water” vs coffee, let me remind you that coffee is “bean water.”

To answer your questions: I’m retired, but I often moonlight as an instructor at a local teaching hospital. No, it’s still broken. Yes, I kept it.

How are you?

-Dr. Griffin

* * *

 

 

Abby read each line at least 10 times before she hit the send button. She hadn’t realized how tense she had become, but the stinging sensation below her neck belies her unease. She shrugs her shoulders in a futile attempt to relax.

She contemplates talking to Clarke about Raven’s out of the blue email. Clarke and Raven were once good friends, but some intangible pull inside her dismisses the idea outright. If Raven wanted to contact Clarke, then she would do that herself. If there was something outside of boyfriends and friendship that Clarke and Raven shared, then it is their fierce independence.

The oppressive silence in her house and lingering thoughts weigh down on her. Why not call and check up on her daughter?

“Hey honey. It’s good to hear your voice. Tell Lexa I say hello. How are the kids?” Abby leans back in her chair and settles herself for the evening, taking pleasure in Clarke’s busy yet appreciative recitation of her family’s recent exploits. When Clarke gets around to asking about anything new in Abby's life, Abby dodges the question. "Oh, honey, we all know I'm not the interesting one in the family."

This thing with Raven is too precious and tenuous to define. And she's not ready to share it with anyone. Not until she knows how to categorize it herself.  Her gaze holds the broken desk lamp.  Even after seven years she can’t seem to throw it out.  


"Now," Abby says, "tell me more about that trip to the park. You said something about a dog and an ice cream cone?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic's basic plot structure was inspired by the movie "Lazy Eye." There will be a few scenes that heavily draw from that movie, but the ending and general content will veer away from that material. 
> 
> Other characters from The 100 will be mentioned but are not tagged because they will only be referenced in the story.
> 
> This chapter is PG, but other chapters will be explicit.


	2. Chapter 2

Under normal circumstances Abby appreciates distractions from what has become an uneventful and mundane period in her life. The hospital operating room was her home for so many years that she never quite feels at ease now that she is without a scalpel in her hand or a diagnosis to assess. She does get to teach on a rare and treasured occasion, but it's like comparing the thrill of eating a hamburger when you desire a steak. The O.R. for as many hours as she spent in it, is also the reason why she covets her time with Clarke. Abby knows that Clarke blames her for being absent when Clarke was growing up. Abby wishes sometimes that she would have been home more, but she's wise enough to know you cannot change the past.

Instead of cauterizing and stitching, these days she gets to keep the house immaculate shape. But, there's only so much gardening and cleaning until there's nothing left to fix. That leaves today's schedule completely blank. Except for this unwanted distraction. Abby never thought a simple email could become bombshell in the middle of week.

If the first email exchange had been an opening salvo, then Raven's next email feels downright weaponized. Abby knows there is no inherent threat in Raven's words. The hallow pit in her stomach that started as a pebble the day before, the one that’s beginning to grow into softball, is signaling alarm.

* * *

Re: Re: Dropping a Line

 January 17, 2017

Raven Reyes<R.Reyes@ReyesTechnical.com>

 

Hey Abby,

Dr. Griffin? Ouch. I hope you haven't gotten all formal on me, Abby. Unless, it’s like when I used to call you Doc.

“Bean water?” Please don’t get me started on coffee. It's my starter fuel. I'm already hot enough that I don't need the antioxidants. Unless you've changed, I doubt you need them either. You always looked great.

Thinking of you not in a hospital is like me being stuck behind a desk instead of diving into a broken motor.  That’s just depressing.  At least you get to teach, right?

You know happiness has been something I've been thinking about lately. For the longest time, I thought I had broken something inside me, like happiness could happen to other people but not me. Then I was like, "shut up, Raven and get to work" because I always get things done. Now I know it may be more than that. Don't get me wrong, I like my job, especially my boss. She's intelligent, beautiful, and can rock a leather jacket. Yeah, you guessed it. I work for myself. I built up a technical mechanic company after I graduated. Next time we see each other I'll tell you about how I started it.

Anyway, I know it wasn't all roses, but that summer we had meant something to me. I've tried to grab that feeling that I had with you with other people or in new places, but I can never get a grasp around it. Is it same for you?

Let me know if you ever want that old lamp fixed. I have a mechanic I could recommend. She makes house calls.

 -Raven

* * *

Abby doesn't know what is more infuriating: the fact that Raven has the gall to even consider suggesting they meet or that Abby, if she is honest with herself, aches at the thought of seeing Raven again.

_Why is she so disarming?_ In an instance that sly mercurial switch from confident bravado to bare vulnerability sliced through all the fortified stitches Abby had woven to heal that scarring gash the day Raven left without a word. The memory of the terrifying emptiness that filled up each room with so much omnipresent loneliness overcomes her to the point that she thinks she that she might suffocate from all the weight of it.

_You should focus on this feeling_ , Abby thinks to herself. She needs to ruminate on why her life is better without Raven. She's never been one to lack resolve, so why start now?  Yet, her mind departs down a different trajectory.

Memories of deep, dark eyes staring into her own; getting lost in a tangle of teeth, limbs, and lips for hours on end; and hushed whispers of “I love” and “more” breathed out are all her mind fixates upon. The heat of it creeps through her center, branches upward through her chest, and blooms into her cheeks. Abby winces with pain when she recognizes the only thing center to this reality is her staunch grip of the desk top. Abby releases her hand and then brings her fingers up to her temples.

She does not need this at her age. She really doesn't. Except her own body is rebelling against herself, because to her utter disbelief she's typing words other than, "I do not think we should see each other again."

* * *

 Re: Re: Re: Dropping a Line

 January 17, 2017

 

Hi Raven,

All right, Dr. Griffin was a little impolite. You'll have to forgive me, but it's been seven years. I see you're still as humble as ever.

Running your own business is something to be proud. I always knew you would be successful. Jake said you were his best student. Your clients must appreciate your attention to detail.

I think you know the answer to your question.

If your mechanic would like to come by sometime in the next few weekends, I'd love to get that lamp fixed. That is if she doesn't mind coming to Seattle. I’ve got a vacation home in Puget Sound.

 -Abby

* * *

Before Abby can prevent herself, she presses send.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally supposed to be a longer chapter, but I decided to break it up into two smaller chapters. I should have the next chapter up before the end of the weekend. Also, the next chapter will have explicit content (i.e. masturbation).
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Abby does not like doubt. In the operating room, you follow your plan and if it goes to hell trust that your instincts are right. Uncertainty is more dangerous than regret. That is why every time she perceives a nervous flutter in her stomach, a lump catching in her throat, or any sense that might promote or signal regret she takes a deep breath and reminds herself that she made her choice when she decided to send a response.

Outside of calming her unsettled nerves, the most difficult task that Abby has faces is avoiding mirrors. Abby knows that in comparison to most women her age she is beautiful. She also understands that age can be unkind. When she smiles, she can feel the tightness crow's feet digging in around her eyes. And while she has always maintained a healthy lifestyle, her skin is not as taut as it used to be. _Would Raven even want me now_? she wonders for a brief moment before she banishes any thoughts that threaten to rebel against anything that reinforces a shaky exterior.

Abby surveys her pristine cabin. The clean floors and spotless counters fail to relay the New Year’s Eve party from several weeks before. How could they when ingrained fastidiousness would not allow her to leave any blemish? She looks out the windows and winces at the cold harshness of the white snow encompassing all that she can see. Abby makes quick work of a fire. The crackling and hissing of the logs let her know her task is complete.

With all her chores finished, she reaches for her phone and checks her text messages. Nothing new from Raven. She does not expect any new messages; the examination is a rote reaction like a reflex hammer tapping a knee. There's no reception in the area. She will not see anything until she goes into town tomorrow to fill up the refrigerator. She swipes her thumb on the touch screen, pausing to look at the last line, "See you tomorrow at 8:30."

Abby leans back into the leather sofa and sets her phone to the side. There's nothing else for her to do tonight, but wait. Yet waiting, focusing on all the possibilities in front of her and how this weekend could detonate her life, isn't something Abby relishes the idea of doing. Instead, she turns on her CD stereo, a relic she is certain dates her more than she wishes to admit, and grabs a bottle of scotch.

The first swig burns as the harsh alcohol slides down her throat. The music kicks in and she does a double take. Clarke must have left her CDs in the player. At least Clarke had decent taste when she was in junior high. Abby turns down the dial, the bass in the music becomes fuzzy in the background. The next sip of scotch is more pleasant. She holds it in her mouth, appreciates the deep flavor of the peat, and allows it to drift to the back of her mouth. The alcohol and melodic buzz of the music does help to fray the edges of her disquietude.

The warmth of the scotch pools in her belly and then travels low. A wry smile reaches her lips. She remembers the last time she shared a bottle of scotch with Raven. Tasting the hot booze on Raven's lips, tracing the chasing the warmth of it with her tongue. An image of Raven, open and keening beneath her, flashes through her mind and sends a bolt of want to her core.

The memory of savoring Raven pulses through her body. The heat and between Abby's legs becomes unbearable and she feels herself straining to get out of her jeans. The desperate need for release causes her to flip the button off her jeans and delve down immediately. Heated wetness greets her fingers as she skims past her swollen clit. She glides her index finger near the sizzling heat of her entrance before returning it back to her engorged need. She needs to come, has to come. There's only one way to do that she realizes. She thinks of the last time she had Raven in her mouth, that slick, velvety texture, and lets out a guttural groan. A few haphazard and clumsy strokes later and Abby finds release.

Once the ecstasy of climax dissipates and her breathing no longer hitches, Abby removes her hand from her now soaked underwear. She hopes this fleeting moment of pleasure is enough to keep her from giving into Raven. Yet, even in this moment as she's crumpled into the back of her couch, a spent mess of a human being, doubt creeps into her mind like a dark grayness overtaking the white of clarity. "Go to bed" she chastises herself. _This is enough. It has to be._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter Raven and Abby finally reconnect. Speaking of connection, the next chapter gets into the explicit territory with oral sex and penetration.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leaving kudos, and/or sending positive comments!


End file.
